


He, Who Learned to Sleep

by ginnyn



Category: CodeName: S.T.E.A.M.
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnyn/pseuds/ginnyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the news of the president's death, Randolph Carter is trying to keep his mind busy while still trying to run away from his nightmares</p>
            </blockquote>





	He, Who Learned to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> (A short babble about Randolph and his apparent anxiety issues. Not natural english, not proofed, I hope you like it anyways!)

Randolph Carter was in the bottom of the Miskatonic University Library, trying to keep his eyes open. His eyeballs were too big for his sockets, his eyelids were too heavy for his muscles and his complete body was just begging for rest. But Randolph Carter couldn’t sleep. He was too scared for that.  
He scanned some notes from days ago. He didn’t remember when he wrote them, or if he really wrote something in it, as those looked more like lines with little bulges than actual letters. He couldn’t decide if the problem was he couldn’t read, or he couldn’t write. Maybe both.  
But he needed to be there. With his books, with his investigation. Been useful. In a way. Because there’s a reason he wanted to die.  
Near to the desk he appropriated from the Library, there’s a seat with a newspaper. All the newspapers of the country were running the same headline with variations. Arkham’s wasn’t an exception. Because, who believed somebody wanted to see their president dead?  
Randolph believed that. But, also, he didn’t believe Abraham Lincoln was dead. Yes, he was pretty sure enemies he must have in any corner of the country and the world, but he could never believe that person was dead this way. He knew it was staged.  
That headline was from 2 weeks ago. He hasn’t slept since then.  
At least not on purpose. Once he fall asleep while sitting in the toilet. Some student found him and tried to wake him up, but he woke up suddenly, screaming to the top of his lungs, scared. The same situation happened several times, with him getting asleep in different parts of the University, waking up suddenly wet with sweat and his poor heart racing a marathon.  
His nightmares were getting steadily worse, and the voices from he was awake louder and louder. The only way he could replace those voices were with his own internal monologue from when he’s investigating, but, now, that wasn’t working. At all.  
But, could he risk sleeping?  
\- Professor Carter! - a dignified figure dressed in blue with a top hat got near to him - I’m happy to see you again  
\- Mr President! - Randolph exclaimed thanks to the rush of adrenaline he got after hear him - I knew you were alive!  
Immediately after, Randolph’s body got almost limp, his heart relaxed and his eyelids too heavy to even continue keeping them up. But, as soon as his brain was about to get a foot into the dream world, he remembered why he doesn’t want to go back.  
\- They are… coming - he said, getting scared mid sentence - right?  
-I’m afraid - Lincoln answered, strong but calm - The description of the survivors from the obliterated eskimo town in Alaska are all consistent and coincide with the descriptions and schemas from the Necronomicon  
Randolph grabbed his head while looking to the floor, shaking  
\- The Aliens, Randolph - Lincoln finally said - They are coming  
He wasn’t safe in the Dream World, but, in the Wake World, at least there’s just sounds. Terrifying sounds, though. But, here, he was useful. At least for the president. His investigations in the Occult had become key in Lincoln project on reverse engineer dark science, the technology of the aliens described in the Necronomicon. His studies started by just trying to understand his nightmares, and, soon, there he was, Abraham Lincoln himself, with the book he was just read about but never believed its existence. Randolph accepted the project of translate and interpret the book, under the condition he needed to be the only one doing it. He explained that, as far as he knew, the horrors contained in the book were too great for any human soul. He didn’t knew if himself could actually live after read those horrors, but at least he will be the only martyr.  
The President accepted with no problems.  
Randolph didn’t think too much about that last fact. He was just happy only himself was going to be a sacrifice.  
But, now, the stage was totally different. It wasn’t the horrors of knowing too much. Or to understand that we are never going to understand. Those creatures were back, and they knew where he was. Now, his books could not hide him from those voices anymore. They would be there, reminding him of his inability of doing something.  
Anything.  
Where could he run?  
He cannot be asleep.  
He cannot be awake.  
Maybe, just maybe...  
-I must remind you Professor Carter that gun you have there is for personal protection only - the President commented, stopping his train of thought  
-Why are you telling me that? - Randolph asked scared  
-Because your left hand is moving to that drawer  
Randolph didn’t notice his left hand going to the drawer. Yes, he kept his gun there, the same gun the President himself gave him. But, why was he trying to…  
His eyes widened at the realization  
-I’m sorry Mr President! - he screamed - I didn’t realize what I was  
-You cannot feel wrong Randolph - Lincoln interrupted - Don’t apologise for something like that.  
Randolph felt awful. Again. Yes, he felt safer with the President around, but, he never knew what to do, or feel, or say. It wasn’t the President was intimidating. Ok, maybe he was. But he knew he was expecting something different from him. And he was trying, he was really trying, but the sounds from far away were getting louder.  
If he could make himself smaller.  
If he could disappear  
-Randolph - Lincoln say in a whisper, looking at Carter’s shaking hands and legs, and red, wet eyes - I also must remind you your last discovery helped in the upgrade of Lady Liberty. You probably can’t see it, as you are so far from the applications standpoint, but your work on the trans…  
-Translation of the Necronomicon, yada yada… - Randolph completed - I know that sir. I just can’t believe it  
-That’s why I’m telling you - Lincoln affirmed - Maybe you will believe me  
Randolph pressed his eyes with his hands, to the point he started to see lights.  
-Sir, it’s not like I don’t want you here but - Randolph asked - Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Did you came for the bo  
-No, not the book. At least not only that - Lincoln presented to Randolph a badge - I also came to draft my new agent into S.T.E.A.M.  
Randolph grabbed the badge and carefully stroke it, barely reading the letters S.T.E.A.M. on top.  
-S… - Randolph asked - T.E.A.M.?  
-Strike Team Eliminating the Alien Menace - Lincoln answered, proud of his last idea  
Randolph stared to a corner. One corner of the badge for been precise.  
-I refuse  
-Professor Carter! - Lincoln exclaimed strongly - You can’t! I need you!  
-You don’t need me - Randolph resorted, throwing that badge back to the President - You need people who can fight. I don’t do that. I just read books  
-You are the only one who knows the physiology of the aliens based on what it’s already translated from the Necronomicon - Lincoln insisted - We need that knowledge if we’re going to fight them!  
-Take my notes - Randolph offered - All the notes you need! You’re paying for my investigation, those notes are yours.  
Why was he insisting this much? Randolph was starting to get restless, annoyed with his insistence. He tried to avoid eye contact with the President but his glare was too strong to not see.  
He wanted to go away.  
Not be a bother anymore.  
Why was he insisting?  
Why?  
-Randolph - the tone of the President changed slightly to something a bit more soft - My intelligence says you have been here the last 2 weeks  
What?  
-That you haven’t slept well in three years  
No, no, no, no, no, no  
-I really think that…  
-WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! - Randolph screamed, exasperated - I’M DOING THE BEST I CAN, I SWEAR!  
He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but tears started to go out of his eyes to his cheeks. He was grinding his teeth while trying to avoid sobbing, but his body needed that release.  
Why was he so pitiful in front of the President?  
He really didn’t want to be like this. He wanted to be strong, but he had no idea how to do it. He wasn’t strong, he is not.  
He must keep running away  
But, for how long?  
There’s another way of release?  
-I know you are doing the best you can - the President commented - But you can’t do this alone. One of our S.T.E.A.M. agents is an expert in medicine. She can help you. But you have to decide that  
The President returned the badge to Randolph, and went away.  
-Sir, SIR! - Randolph cried - The book!  
They went to the secure vault only the President and Randolph have access. There, Randolph gave to the President the book.  
-Are you sure you are not going to need it? - Lincoln asked  
-I have something else to think about - Randolph answered  
-Please, Randolph, don’t be afraid to call for help - the President said as a good bye - It’s the only extra thing I’m going to ask you. 

Randolph woke up several days later after this conversation. He didn’t knew exactly where he was, but, for some reason, he felt rest. And his mind was clear. Enough to not realize this, and just enjoy the sound of the steam engines chunking its pistons while moving something big around while trying to look around in a small, dark but comfy room.  
What just happened? Again?  
Oh, right… That kid, what’s his name? Henry?  
He was nice, he knew how to do his job. Except for the part when he got kidnapped anyway by a prowler. That’s ok. He was alive.  
He started to feel the bed he was tuck into. It was warm and very soft.  
He was sleepy. But that wasn’t a bad feeling. It was a very nice one. He wanted to keep doing it, close his eyes and get back to that world again.  
But the waking world was also nice. With those dim lights coming out of the window, thanks to those curtains and, uh?  
A Dreamcatcher?  
-You, Abraham Lincoln, you sly bastard - he muttered, standing up with difficulty and opening the curtains to let the sun soak the amulet.  
-So, the Native American girl was the medic, uh? - he commented out loud, looking at the bright blue sky which was over the clouds the Lady Liberty was flying over.  
His brain started to work again, processing information on the background, while he was trying to stay sleepy and rested the longer he could.  
But, that would not happen. He has to tell them the Aliens weren’t after him or his investigation this time, but the book itself.  
But now, he has to enjoy the first time he felt secure in both worlds.


End file.
